Percy and his gang irritate me no end down in the barn. I do put down food for them, asking only that they wait their turn. Percy has gotten to the point that he gives me what Craig calls the hairy eyeball, staring me down, even squinting in derision, until I bat or stomp at him when he tries to steal from the mice. The mice are so polite by comparison. Each mouse will take one piece of food at a time, either sitting up and eating it there or taking it away to stash. The danged greedy squirrels pack their pouches as fast as they can, bits falling from their lips, until there's nothing left for the rest. Sharing is not in their vocabulary.
There is a hospitality line that must not be crossed, as the coyote who came trotting up the driveway yesterday found out. If it was here for water, I'm sorry, but there are limits as to what I will provide. Bess barked and I clapped and yelled until it turned around and went back the way it came. Water is available for the wild things, but coyotes must come in the night when the livestock is safe in their barn and coop.
That gorgeous buck and one of his ladies were here this morning. He was under the oak again, but she was standing on hind legs trying to get a bite of the mimosa tree. Sorry, lady, that's not on the menu.
Happy Fourth of July!